Pyrite
by jfiggaz
Summary: S2E8 my twisted interpretation. Ian and Maura's last convo.
1. Chapter 1

**This new season is disappointing. Is it me but the characters haven't gotten any deeper. No one ever talks about the shooting or the divorce or any issues that these writers have created. I find myself reading more fiction than paying attention to the episodes but this starts during "My Own Worst Enemy". Just something on my mind, not doing an intense proofread (like I ever) but really…here goes.**

Irritated. It was the simplest description of her feelings, Maura thought. She was indescribably annoyed, after four years of an intense friendship, Jane didn't trust her judgment. Why would Jane feel the need to investigate Ian? It was always like that with Garrett, Slucky, Giovanni, more times than she cared to remember. Maura never needed a hero. She fended for herself with great success without the constant hovering of the Italian detective. Yes the doctor was pissed. So pissed she didn't notice Ian in foyer and ran smack into him and his suitcase.

"You're leaving already," Maura gasped as she met Ian with his Samsonite in hand.

"You're leaving," Ian repeated "Maura I thought you were coming with me. I know this is short notice but my friend Markus Tsangari got us a ride from Paris with Engineers without Borders. We have to make it to the city of lights, tomorrow by noon. "

"You were serious," Maura quizzed as she cocked her head to one side? "Last time, when you found me in Seattle, we did our usual tryst you made your fruitless promise. If I remember correctly you left me a post-it, after I resigned and sub-leased my apartment."

"I was a boy," he grimaced "I came back for you, not these supplies. I thought we could try again. A little older and wiser." He loosened his grip on the handle and placed his hands on Maura's petite shoulders.

"My life is in Boston. I still love you, Ian. There will never be a day that goes by in which I don't love you,  
>" Maura said, her voice uncontrolled cracked. She noticed the front door was still open and pushed it shut.<p>

"I love you, Maura. All we need is love. Lennon knew that," Ian smiled. He cupped her face, the planted a feather light kiss on her lips. "You're the love of my life. I realized that in my lonely tent in the jungle."

"The love of your life," Maura gasped. She leaned on the end table for support as if his admission has winded her. "I've waited almost five years to hear you say those words. Now that you've said them…"

"It's Jane," Ian sighed. "I thought you said there was nothing there."

"She's my friend. I can't leave her, my family. My life is Boston," Maura whispered.

"Constance is in Paris; your father is in Stockholm. What family?" Ian spat. Frustrated, he dragged his hands over his face. "You mean Jane's family."

"They're my family too," Maura defended. "Jane and I aren't romantic. Something changed when I had her blood on my hands. Although, she would never admit it, she shot herself because of me. The paramedics had Frankie; I knew she trusted me enough to keep him alive. When she saw me run out of the precinct, I've never seen fear in Jane's eyes like that before. He must have threatened to shoot me."

"She's your hero, I use to be your hero," Ian interrupted.

"Ian you're the love of my life. I will never love anyone the way I loved you. Love isn't enough. Lennon lied. Jane loves me in a way you never could. Even though you are the love of my life, you could never have me the way she does. I can't see life without her. You are the love of my life but Jane is my life." Her confession felt existential, as if she was watching this entire seen from the bar stool with a vintage Cab.

The horn of the taxi outside filled the thick, opaque uncomfortable silence that rushed between them.

"She loves you. I don't know why I expected you to wait for me. I should've known someone else would figure it out." Ian grimaced.

"Figure what out?"

"That you are the embodiment of phenomenal. I wish I would have said these things sooner. Jane is very lucky," He smiled wryly. "Dr. Isles, I must be going. You should tell her, how you feel. You both aren't happy with the status quo."

Moments later Ian was gone and she was left alone in the deafening still. Lately her house was a busy as Grand Central Station, submerged in the aroma of marinara, laughter, arguing…Rizzolis. Angela must be with her church group, Maura thought as she opened the cheap bottle of wine Ian sent.

She'd bet everything on Jane. Why? Honestly the night before, while Ian slept, Maura had packed for Africa. Her Tumi luggage was ready to go but she found herself putting everything back. He didn't even notice she had left the bed, didn't stir a muscle. Maura could barely make it to the bathroom without Jane turning and only minutes would pass until she heard a husked "Maur."

Jane, Maura whispered. She and Jane were so fucked, so complicated. Traipsing around the African jungle with Ian in ways was much safer than being in love with a maverick detective. The shooting had unnerved Maura; the weeks of Jane's recovery were hard. Frank and Angela couldn't survive. She and Jane barely survived; she needed to be Jane's friend. Even if she wanted to be Jane's girlfriend or rather wife, the doctor wasn't sure if her emotions could bear having Jane in that capacity knowing that with any call it could abruptly end.

Ian was gone. He had said the words, she dreamed, labored, and at times obsessed over. They didn't mean anything. The emotions she had expected during this apex moment were fleeting. Perhaps it was the most deflating point; she wasn't a recent med grad trying to figure out her place in the world. She had a space carved out in existence; a pasta filled, softball on Saturday's, beer next to unfinished bottle of white existence.

What about Jane? How was she to explain the past week? She never mentioned Ian but she hadn't mentioned Garrett either. Wasn't it a rule of thumb not to bring up past relationships in your current one? Ian was right the ambiguity of her and Jane's relationship was carcinogenic. They needed clarity.

She had almost drained her second glass, when she heard the familiar knock. Everyone had stopped using their key, after Ian's arrival in effort to give Maura some privacy.

"Jane," she sighed. Tonight was not that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank-you for the reviews. Conclusion. Oh this story is named after the Frank Ocean song "Pyrite". Listen to it if you get a chance, it kind of the soundtrack to my story.**

Maura longed for an off switch, a temporary way to terminate cognition. She wanted to enjoy the lanky woman's embrace but the wheels turned in overdrive. Her life was becoming a bad television show, her world would shatter and in forty-five minutes Jane was there with the white wash. Everything lay beneath a veneer, no one talked about anything. It was no surprise; week to week she brushed her feelings away for Jane.

What was Jane thinking, "Do you want me to drive you to the airport?" Maura mouthed the words in the quiet room; the only noise was Jane's light snoring and the hum of the air conditioner. Maybe she had misjudged the gravity of their relationship. Did Jane love her enough to let her go or was Jane's offer another way to distance herself? Maura thoughts infuriated her became acerbic in her mind.

"I don't want a hero," the doctor blurted. The words flashed from her brain and crashed against the silence of the room.

"Maur," Jane panicked, she shot up from the bed and reached for her firearm in the nightstand. Once the detective scanned the room, she settled herself against the head board, then whispered "Bad dream?"

"No," Maura sobbed. Hot, salty tears raced down her cheeks. "Why would you drive me to the airport? Why do you have the constant need to save the day? I don't need a hero. If you want to protect me from someone, protect me from you," Maura hollered.

"What the fuck, Maura. It's two in the morning and you're yelling at me. I didn't leave for Africa, remember. I'm here. Don't project that unfinished shit with Ian, on me. What are we really talking about?" Jane raked her hands through her bed head and swung her legs to the edge of the bed.

"How can share your bed, your family, your friends, your secrets, your fears, your LIFE Jane; then nonchalantly choose to ship me off to Africa?" The tears had stopped the anger that flowed through Maura veins had brought her to her feet.

"I thought I was being a good friend. Ian's the love of your life. Proximity shouldn't keep you from being with the person that you love." Jane sighed. "I know what it's like to be so close to the person you love and them being so far away." Jane slid off the bed, grabbed Maura by the waist, and sat the doctor in her winged chair. The doctor plopped on its matching ottoman.

"He asked me to go. I packed, then unpacked, then repacked and unpacked for hours last night while he slept," Maura whispered. She wanted to pace but Jane had a firm grip on her thighs. The detective learned years ago, any serious conversation with Maura had to be fidget free; otherwise there would be more asinine facts and googlefarts than Jane could handle.

"Why didn't go Maura? I don't think I've ever seen you so upset," Jane sighed.

"Yeah, well you were unconscious during my greatest breakdown," Maura half-heartedly chuckled.

"It's because of me," Jane cracked. Tears teetered on the edges of her tears ducts. The Italian swallowed hard hoping to draw them back. "Aww Maur, we can survive me, ma, Tommy, and Frankie. We're Rizzolis after all. You should be with Dr. Ian, I haven't seen that happy since before the..." Jane stopped. "It's been awhile Maur."

"You don't love me," Maura whimpered?

"I tore apart Boston looking for you. Stood up to a mob boss, a dirty cop, and the elite of Boston society for you. I have been fearless because the thought of you unhappy or dead has become so debilitating. I love you Maura with everything. You love Ian. Sucks but nothing has ever been easy for me," Jane stated.

"I love Ian but I chose to build my life around you. Nothing has ever prevented me from returning to Doctors Without Borders. Ian is the love of my life but you are so much more," Maura exhaled. She gently took Jane's hands and caressed the scars with her thumbs.

"I can't be a rebound," Jane shot as she snapped her hands back.

"There has never been a contender for your place. Who could you replace," Maura deadpanned. She grabbed Jane's hands and held them.

"Why are you telling me this now? Why did you cry on my shoulder for hours talking about Ian? What changed?"

"How long will we live this way?" Maura screamed.

"I can't. I heard you cry, Maur," Jane muttered.

"I cry all the time, Jane. You see me cry all the time. Remember my," Maura sobbed.

Jane rose from the ottoman, then buried her hands in her hair and laced them. " Lacrimal and amygdala glands. I know the story," Jane shrugged. "I meant I heard you sobbing while I was in the void. It was worst than purgatory. Every day I would start the same, Sox vs. Orioles, drinks with the boys at the Robber, fall asleep with you in my arms. Normal shit. Only every time I would fall asleep suddenly I'd be trapped in a clear coffin with a sound proof lid. No one heard my screams, not even me. Only thing I could hear were your sobs. I had the same dream countless of times while I was comatose," Jane cracked.

"How long will we live this way," Maura unmoved, asked? "I'm unwilling to live in fear any longer. I've spent my entire life afraid. Afraid my parents would send me back to the orphanage, afraid I'll disappoint them, afraid of people, afraid of societal mishaps, afraid that no one would love me as I am. You love me as I am. I'm sorry but I refuse to give us into worry. It's a fact, one day you may not make it home. It only takes one call but every day I have with you, I plan to live to full capacity."

"Maura you are all I have, you are my constant. Ma and Pop are divorcing. Tommy has never been reliable. Frankie is growing into a man I don't know. He has a paternity scare, not to mention we've never talked about the shooting. My life is shit and you are the lotus that grows out of it. I don't trust myself. Maura I'm a fuck up. I'll die if I fuck this up."

"It's too late Jane. We're already connected. I have all of you and you have all of me. God forbid, if you die tomorrow it wouldn't be any less excruciating than if we were married. Maybe even more because it meant we didn't even try."

"Married, God forbid. I have to get my mother an apartment; she's affecting your vocab. It won't be long until she slips me nona's engagement ring. I would have to change the stones of course."

"Of course? Your nona's engagement ring is probably lovely. I wouldn't need to stones changed. Although it may have to be sized," Maura said and cocked her head to the side.

"Wait did I propose," Jane asked?

"No, you didn't," Maura laughed.

"Can I take you on date first before we call the caterer," Jane shrugged?

"May I," Maura corrected.

"Yea whatever. Dr. Isles is possible we make it back to bed before the sun rises. I swear there is nothing like having your girlfriend wake you up from a sound sleep just because her boyfriend left for Africa," Jane chided.

"So we are dating," Maura smiled.

"No we're engaged just in case that Australian comes back," Jane laughed.


End file.
